


Harry & Draco, Best Friends Forever...?

by Luna_delCielo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_delCielo/pseuds/Luna_delCielo
Summary: Lucius Malfoy just discovered that little Harry Potter is living with a Muggle family. Seems to him like his son would make a perfect playmate for the child who inevitably would become more powerful than the Dark Lord!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Bedroom Plotting

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Lucius Malfoy just discovered that little Harry Potter is living with a Muggle family. Seems to him like his son would make a perfect playmate for the child who inevitably would become more powerful than the Dark Lord!
> 
> Characters: Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, Dudley Dursley. Multiple viewpoints.
> 
> Idea attribution: This idea came to me during a Forum discussion: http://forum.tthfanfic.org/index.php?topic=6132.50  
> Quote from: JoeB on Wed, 01 Dec 10 07:25:15  
> Consider as soon as Harry was in the open Lucius want Draco to get all buddy buddy with him. I would have thought that they would have started the seduction at a much younger age, and I bet Vernon would have gotten over his hatred of Wizards pretty quick with how rich the Malfoy's and several other DE's were.  
> Luna:  
> Now that is an interesting idea...I've seen stories where Harry met the Malfoys right away when he was 11 and they befriended him, but this idea is even more interesting. Of course, Dumbledore would know, most likely, that they were moving in on his secret weapon but I doubt he could really do anything about it. Meanwhile Harry would grow up being best of buds with Draco (and maybe turning not just into Dumbledore's tool but just a 'tool' as well). Growing up with muggle-haters when muggles abused him would be fascinating...
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The characters and background stories belong to a terrible person who engages in rampant and dangerous transphobia.

Lucius Malfoy sat in his parlor sipping black tea when a loud popping noise announced the arrival of one of his house elves. “Yes?” he called out in a bored tone, moistening his lips with the warm beverage.

“M-master Malfoy, s-sir. There’s a Mr. Nott here to see you.”

Swiveling in his oak chair, Lucius looked down at the house elf – what was his name again…Doorknob? Doberman? Dobby? Ah yes, that was it – and smiled slightly. “Bring him here.”

Dobby nodded and apparated away. Lucius frowned in concern. Theodore Nott, Sr., had hinted that he heard news of interest but Lucius honestly had no idea what the man knew. Theo was a Ministry official, one of his closest allies in the political world, and he always had his ear to the ground.

Footsteps sounded and Lucius rose to his feet. “Theo,” he nodded briskly as he shook the other wizard’s hand.

“Lucius,” Theo smiled. Nott was a tall fellow and built like a Quidditch Beater – and his crooked nose made the man’s former career obvious. Straw-colored hair lay thick upon his head and his facial hair was a neatly trimmed beard. Green eyes twinkled underneath heavy eyebrows suggesting his excitement, and Lucius motioned for the man to sit.

“How is the family, Theo? Is your son enjoying his governess?” Lucius asked, only mildly interested. Any savvy politician understood the instinctual human need to like a person who appeared interested in the activities closest to their heart – namely, family.

“Little Theo is certainly making the broad earn her money,” Theo guffawed. “Yesterday he led her on a merry little chase through the manor. I tell you, he may be only eight but he’s got the speed of a snitch!”

Lucius laughed lightly and smiled. “Still interested in preparing him for Quidditch?”

“Of course!” Theo answered in a booming voice. “Of course, the missus thinks he needs to worry about just school when he arrives at Hogwarts in a few years.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Narcissa isn’t fond of Draco engaging in any violent activities where he might get hurt,” Lucius smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Now, tell me Theo, what is your news?”

“I heard it from an Auror. It’s rather hush-hush to keep the public away at the moment.” Theo paused, obviously relishing in the fact that he possessed a secret that Lucius was not yet privy to.

“Yes?” Lucius drawled, annoyed that he had to prompt the ever theatrical Theodore Nott. The man had grown so used to the spotlight during his Quidditch days that he clearly craved it still.

“Harry Potter has been spotted with a muggle family,” Theo whispered dramatically.

Lucius sat straight up and stared at Theo. “After all these years and the bloody ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ is with muggles?” he scoffed, clearly using the famed nickname in jest. “Dumbledore really is cracked, isn’t he?”

“Dunno, seems to have hidden the boy this long,” Theo shrugged.

Lucius pondered for a moment. It was widely known that Harry Potter was the cause of the Dark Lord’s death. Some of the Death Eaters, including him, believed that Potter must have a well of dark power waiting inside him. After all, what other force could have killed the greatest wizard to have lived if it was not dark magic within the babe? They had searched for Potter since then, each anticipating what sort of great magic the boy must have – and quite frankly how to tear the boy from Dumbledore and place him onto a more ‘constructive’ path.

Losing the Dark Lord had almost ruined them all. Narcissa’s sister and brother-in-law were in Azkaban. Lucius had to testify that he had been Imperiused during the war. It had taken several years to set their reputation to rights. And furthermore, losing Voldemort meant that Lucius had to return to his rather undistinguished life.

Not that he was without merits and power. No, it wasn’t that. In the Wizarding World he was powerful…but that was just in Britain and a select few European countries. Voldemort had promised them the world – and Lucius always got what he was promised, even if he had to take matters into his own hands.

“So where is the boy?” Lucius asked.

And later that day he apparated into Little Whinging, Surrey, England.

***

“I won’t have it, Lucius!” Narcissa Malfoy spat, her glacial eyes narrowed and her arms crossed. They were in their bedroom, her standing and Lucius calmly reclining on their king-sized bed.

“Darling,” Lucius drawled. “It’ll be good exposure for Draco. I thought you wanted him to succeed in school?”

“In wizarding school, not muggle!” Narcissa screeched. She began pacing angrily, stalking the width of their bedroom like a wild cat.

Lucius raised a lazy brow. “This will expose him to more types of people. You know what my mother says – it’s important to learn how to interact with others.”

“Right,” Narcissa said with a harsh laugh. “And right after that your mother says to remember to avoid the common pleb - especially muggles.”

He smirked. Mrs. Priscilla Malfoy was an outspoken and crafty old woman who had a strong view of the world. Of course, she had taught him everything he knew.

Narcissa stopped pacing and gave him a strange look. “In fact, you’re just like your mother,” she accused. “So why, oh why, do you want our son to attend Little Whinging Public Elementary?” Her eyes shifted from anger to suspicion. Yes, she knew him well.

Lucius attempted to play it off with a shrug. “Can’t a father just want to provide his only son with more networking opportunities?”

“Networking is play dates with the children of pureblood wizards and witches, not muggles. What’s your game, darling?” Narcissa approached him, a cautious expression on her face.

He fought to keep from smirking. This was an old song and dance for them. They both had known each other since childhood and knew how to play the other. When she wanted something Narcissa would call him ‘darling’. Next she would begin rubbing his shoulders.

Since he was in need of a good backrub, Lucius maintained his silence.

Carefully pasting a seductive look on her fair and pretty face, his wife crawled into bed behind him and began running her hands over the curves of his bare back. “Darling, you know you can tell me anything. And you know I especially dislike secrets.”

“What will you do for me?” Lucius murmured, his breath caught in his throat as Narcissa’s nails ran down his spine.

Her tongue ran down the edge of his earlobe and Lucius shivered. “You know.”

He was no fool. Narcissa would tease him all night until he gave in.

“Fine,” Lucius said reluctantly, enjoying the feel of her hands kneading his tense shoulders. “I found out where Harry Potter lives. I thought Draco could befriend him and perhaps we could align ourselves with the boy and help him…grow.”

That delightful feel of his wife’s hands on his back halted. “What?”

Well, that didn’t go as planned…

Narcissa whirled him around and jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. “Lucius, are you insane! You of all people do not need to involve yourself with that Potter boy! And if he will grow up to be dark, just as you and the others think, I do not want Draco influenced by him!”

Lucius’ icy blue eyes focused on the muscle in his wife’s cheek that twitched when she was feeling particularly angry. Then he realized something. “So you…you are saying that you want our son - our son – to avoid the lifestyle I had?”

Narcissa’s silence was answer enough.

Angry, Lucius stood up and faced his wife, his long blond hair flipping to the side. “Narcissa, someone is bound to find the Potter boy and align him to their family. Do you want it to be us, or someone else? Someone else who may not have our family’s best interests at heart?”

He could see Narcissa waver. It was wicked of him but he knew exactly which strings to pull – and family was one of them.

“If we want to keep safe, it is best that Potter is with us. Who knows what may happen if someone else mentors him. At least this way, as his best friend, Draco would be cared for and safe.” Lucius’ eyes analyzed his wife’s flickering expressions, looking for a sign of success.

“I suppose,” she began softly, “public muggle school would be good exposure for Draco.”

Lucius gave her a winning smile. “That’s my girl.”

Narcissa directed a haughty look in his direction. “But expect nothing from me tonight, for this surprise.”

He was so ecstatic at the anticipation of what was to come that he didn’t care. “No my love, tonight will be all about you.” Lucius slid into bed and began to show his wife all the different ways he was thankful for her.

In all honestly, Lucius had a very nice life. And soon it would be getting much better.


	2. “Secret Aaaaagent Man…er, Wizard”

“I won’t!” Draco stated petulantly as he crossed his arms.  
  
The Malfoy family was in Lucius’ private office. Lucius was seated at his ornate black desk with Narcissa at his right side while Draco sat across from them. Draco’s eyes were narrowed and his mouth was set in an angry line. In times like these Lucius would find himself extremely frustrated with his stubborn son but there was a part of him that respected the boy – Malfoys _always_ got what they wanted and Draco seemed to inherit that internal philosophy. He would do well, with the right upbringing that they were providing.  
  
“Draco, darling, it will be an excellent experience for you. Imagine what this will do for your future career. Few purebloods know about the muggle world and this will give you an inside look – which may prove beneficial in later business deals,” Narcissa said smoothly, her palms upturned in a gesture of willingness for him to listen.  
  
“But muggles are _terrible_ and trashy and overall foolish,” Draco whined. Then he turned to Lucius with a hopeful look. “Isn’t that right, Father?”  
  
Lucius sighed. The boy _was_ correct and a part of Lucius abhorred placing him in such a foul institution as muggle public school, but the payoff would be worth it. However, due to Draco’s young age they had agreed not to tell him the _full_ story in regards to his muggle schooling. It wouldn’t do for the boy to let something slip.  
  
“Draco, indeed you are correct. Muggles _are_ utterly beneath us. But what this schooling truly is, is a secret mission.” Lucius let loose a little smile as Draco’s eyes widened before he calmed his features into an impassive expression.  
  
“What sort of secret mission?” his eight-year old son inquired suspiciously – with just a hint of excitement that glowed in his pale gray eyes. Ever so subtly he leaned forward in his seat.   
  
“Well,” Lucius began in a hushed voice as he leaned slightly over his desk. “We discovered that there is a young wizard boy who is trapped in that school.”  
  
Draco paled – likely he was imagining how wicked the muggles must be to trap a wizard. In reality, Lucius had no idea what the extended family that kept young Harry Potter was like – it would be foolhardy to approach that neighborhood when Dumbledore – crafty old bat that he was – would likely had placed a spy nearby.  
  
“What? How? Why?” Draco cried out in horror.  
  
Lucius gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “Truthfully, we’re unsure. We don’t even know if the boy has been informed of his wizarding background. His parents died in a car accident when he was a baby and he lives with his aunt and uncle.” Lucius may not know a bloody thing about the muggle world but it was simply enough to convert some Galleons at Gringotts and pay a private muggle investigator (he had considered hiring a wizard but decided to abstain from involving the wizarding world at all in this new venture – one could never be sure who to trust, after all). The investigator had found official records that stated how Lily Potter had ‘died’ and that the child went to her sister and brother-in-law.  
  
Silent as he mulled his father’s words over, Draco pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair. Finally he asked, “So what exactly is this super secret mission? Am I supposed to take him from the muggles?”  
  
“Honestly, we just want you to befriend the boy, darling,” Narcissa inputted. She smiled sadly. “The poor thing has no connection to his family’s past and we think it’s important to help him.”  
  
“Of course, don’t tell him that he’s a wizard – or that you are," Lucius added quickly. “We don’t want to scare him away if he just thinks that magic is imaginary. Get him to trust you first.”  
  
“And don’t tell your friends,” Narcissa said. “I know you like to share everything with Vincent, Blaise, and Gregory.”  
  
“ _Mother_!” Draco whined. “That isn’t fair!”  
  
“Draco,” Lucius said in a stern, low voice. “What word in the phrase ‘secret mission’ fails to inform you of the intent of our request?”  
  
Flinching, Draco bowed his head. “Sorry, Father,” he mumbled.  
  
Settling back into his chair, Lucius nodded. “Will you accept this secret mission to befriend the wizard at the muggle school, Draco?”  
  
Draco raised his head and gave Lucius a steely gaze. “Depends, Father. What is in it for me?”  
  
Lucius smiled. He and Narcissa had trained their son very well.  
  
***  
  
  
Draco couldn’t believe it. His father had just side-along apparated them to a town called Little Wingbat or something, and now they were standing in front of this maudlin brick building that had a lawn covered with obstinate children who fought with their parents against going to school or were running around like wild animals in pants. Fighting back a shiver of distaste, Draco looked out at them all with cool gray eyes.  
  
Even worse, he was wearing _muggle_ clothing. Something called ‘khakis’ and a blue ‘polo’ shirt that had a little alligator on the breast. Annoyed, he pulled at the shirt, wishing he could wear his robe or something else - _anything_ else.  
  
On top of it all? Father had, after their first talk, revealed that the boy he was supposed to find was _Harry Potter_. The Boy-Who-Lived and all that rubbish. Draco had heard the stories growing up, although never from his father. For whatever reason his father did not like to talk about the night the Dark Lord fell. Apparently most in the wizarding world hated him but Father (and Draco was forbidden to repeat this or say anything similar in public) said that the Dark Lord had been a great wizard who would have saved society.  
  
Which is why Draco thought it was odd that his father wanted to _help_ the boy who killed his friend. Then again, Draco didn’t understand his father half of the time. Plus, he was pretty proud of the fact that his father – his _father_ who _never_ seemed to approve of him – had recruited him for a secret mission. Begrudgingly he had to admit it was pretty cool.  
  
But now he was standing in front of some brick zoo with disgusting muggle children – most of them who looked far too dirty for his liking. Unconsciously, Draco smoothed his white blond hair.  
  
“Come along, Draco. Today is the first day of your mission. Be excited,” Lucius smiled encouragingly.  
  
Draco forced a smile and nodded. Seeing his father smile at him like that…well, it wasn’t often he did that so Draco was determined to be a good son so his father would continue to smile at him.  
  
Lucius began walking into the school and Draco followed him. Students and adults milled in the hallways like stampeding deer and Draco fought not to accidentally have any of them rub shoulders with him. Good Merlin, was it possible to _catch_ muggle-ism? He really hoped not.   
  
Ugh, poor Harry Potter, forced to actually _live_ with muggles.   
  
…He hoped this Potter person wasn’t a filthy muggle lover…  
  
Strolling into a room marked ‘Main Office’, Lucius approached the counter. Behind the counter stood rows of mailboxes and two desks cluttered with paper. One old lady with her grey hair neatly curled sat at the desk. Once Lucius cleared his throat she looked up in surprise.  
  
“Oh! Hello there,” she said with a friendly smile. Draco noted that the name plate on her desk said ‘Mrs. Forrester’. “What can I help you with, dear?”  
  
Lucius shot her a dazzling smile. Draco often watched his parents ready for bed and knew for a fact that his father used a tooth-whitener spell each week. “I am here to enroll my son in school.”  
  
Mrs. Forrester gave Lucius and Draco an appraising look. Thankfully, his mother had taken them both to a muggle shop so they were dressed appropriately; his father had on a very well-tailored suit that was very expensive.  
  
“Lovely! I’ll just need you to fill out this paperwork.” Mrs. Forrester reached under the counter and pulled out a thick stack of paperwork. “We just need to verify that you live in this school district and have all of your personal information.”  
  
Draco looked at his father in alarm. They didn’t live nearby! And they certainly couldn’t give their information to these muggles! Their house was un-plottable, after all!  
  
Lucius stiffened but then relaxed as he glanced behind him and saw no one. Swiftly, he pulled out his wand and incanted, _’Imperio_ ’. The spell hit Mrs. Forrester and her eyes glazed. Draco had never seen his father perform this spell and was immediately struck by how cool it was. He couldn’t wait for Hogwarts!  
  
“My son Draco Black will be enrolled in your school and you will assign him to the same classes as Harry Potter,” Lucius spoke in a cool and controlled voice. It had been decided that Draco would use his mother’s maiden name just to help hide his identity. Personally, Draco had wanted to give himself a cool name like Scorpius but Mother said that it wouldn’t due for Potter to call him by one name only to realize it was a lie.  
  
“Your son Draco Black will be enrolled in our school and I will assign him to the same classes as Harry Potter,” Mrs. Forrester repeated in a deadened voice.  
  
“Yes,” Lucius confirmed, watching with a smile as Mrs. Forrester went through some binders in her desk and handed Draco a paper with a teacher’s name.   
  
“You will be in Mr. Melon’s class,” Mrs. Forrester informed Draco with a blank look in her eyes.  
  
The zombie-like stare kind of scared Draco. Suddenly he wondered if maybe that spell _was_ a spell that he wanted to learn.  
  
***  
  
  
In Mr. Melon’s classroom there were twenty-five desks lined five by five in perfect rows. A chalkboard that had been poorly cleaned, judging by the white dust covering it, was at the front of the classroom and right in front was the teacher’s desk. Mr. Melon was in his forties but was already bald. Thick black spectacles sat low on his nose and he wore black trousers, a white button-up shirt, and red suspenders. His voice was obnoxiously monotonous and Draco was tempted to snap the suspenders and wake up the man a little.   
  
Draco had been placed in the back row on the left hand side, which was nice because he was able to get a good look at everyone. He had no bloody idea what Potter looked like but knew he would have a scar on his forehead – that part was always in the stories. Unfortunately, he had no idea who Potter could be. There were a good deal of well-dressed boys in this room and Draco knew that Potter had to be one of them, but with their heads facing the front of the room, he couldn’t check for a scar.  
  
“Now get out your Reading textbooks, children. We’re going to read out loud a short story called “Bloody Fingers” in celebration of Halloween.”  
  
 _Bloody Fingers_?! What in the ruddy hell was wrong with these muggles?! Who read about bloody wounds for _fun_?  
  
“Draco, since I don’t have a book for you yet, why don’t you just share with someone next to you?” Mr. Melon offered.  
  
Share? Draco Malfoy did _not_ share. Stupid cheap muggle schools. He looked to his right and to his left. On his right was a boy with dirty, greasy black hair and clothes three sizes too big for him – clearly one of your standard dirty muggles. To his right was a pretty girl with smooth cocoa skin and almond eyes. Draco gave her a winning smile. “Mind if I share with you?” he asked smoothly.  
  
The girl sniffed and sat up straight. “I don’t share,” she informed him coolly with a haughty shake of her head that sent her straight black hair flowing behind her shoulders.  
  
Shocked by her snotty treatment, Draco’s jaw dropped as she caught her friend’s eye (the blond in front of her) and giggled. Why…how _dare_ she!  
  
“You can share with me,” a quiet voice said.   
  
Draco looked back at the peasant-dressing muggle boy. Merlin, even his _glasses_ were broken and covered with clear tape! “Fine,” Draco said in a loud voice. “I’d rather not get cooties from a _girl_ anyways.” He put an extra emphasis on the word ‘girl’, letting her know it was an insult. After all, no one treated a Malfoy (er, Black) poorly and got away with it! That girl was now his mortal enemy!  
  
The boy scooted his desk closer and placed his book half on Draco’s desk. He gave Draco a friendly, albeit timid, smile. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Kalika is like that to most people.”  
  
Draco arched an eyebrow. “Well I’m not most people,” he sniffed.  
  
The boy’s eyes widened at his statement, and then he shrugged. The conversation was officially terminated as Mr. Melon went around and had different students read out loud.  
  
 _Maybe_ ’, Draco thought, ‘ _once I find Harry Potter we can figure out a wandless spell to hex that stupid Kalika girl._ ’  
  
***  
  
  
After lunch (where Draco sat with a group of the popular good-looking well-dressed boys because he figured one of them _had_ to be Harry Potter; after all, Father had said the boy’s family was extremely wealthy – not as wealthy as _them_ of course, but wealthy enough) Draco went to recess where he was severely disappointed that he had still not found Harry Potter. He supposed he could have _asked_ the other boys who Harry Potter was but he figured that a secret spy should not be name-dropping. Therefore, he just made quick glances at everyone’s forehead (which was hard since most boys had bowl-style haircuts) to check if they were the Boy-Who-Lived. So far, it didn’t seem like any of the popular boys were Harry Potter.  
  
Making his mood worse was the fact that this recess activity-thing was apparently a time for children to roughhouse and play stupid sports like kickball (nothing compared to Quidditch!). The popular boys invited Draco to play kickball with them and some of the girls, but since that witch (and _not_ the good kind) Kalika was playing, he feigned a stomachache. Instead, Draco sat on the swings by himself and surveyed the playground.  
  
There were twenty-five kids in his class. Twelve of them were boys. Seven of them were the popular boys he sat with at lunch, none of whom had a scar on their forehead. That left five other boys. One was fat and unsightly in a striped red shirt. Another was black and Draco was pretty sure that Harry Potter was white. Then there was the dirty boy whose book he shared. Finally, there was a blond-haired but very short boy who hung out on the jungle gym with the girls and a bookish fellow sitting on the ground by a tree, far away form everyone.  
  
Good Merlin, if one of those losers was the famous Harry Potter that he had to make friends with, he was seriously going to demand far more presents for this crazy mission.  
  
The bell rang and the children began running to the building door like manic sheep with a pack of wolves snapping at their ankles. Draco smirked. He wondered if these muggle children knew that _he_ was the big bad wolf. After all, if Father had it his way – he said once – he would exterminate all the muggles so they would stop ‘dirtying magical blood’.  
  
As the children poured into the building, Draco found himself near the back of the line. When he squeezed into the door, he bumped into the dirty-haired muggle boy (EW! A muggle touched him! As soon as he got home he was going to make Dobby prepare him a bath!). Glancing down at disinterest, he saw the boy sprawl onto the tiled floor. Several students laughed cruelly and one boy ( a supremely fat and ugly boy, if he ever saw one) even ‘accidentally’ kicked the dirty muggle boy in his knee.  
  
“You make a great carpet, Potter!” the fat boy shouted with a nasty grin.  
  
Draco froze in horror. _This_ was the Boy-Who-Lived??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References  
> *Bloody Fingers: A reading on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQ7zY54ZjaQ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scary_Stories_to_Tell_in_the_Dark  
> *Kalika - a name I got from the Christopher Pike “The Last Vampire” series. I’ve always liked it ;)


	3. Muggle Nurses Make You Drink From Bottles?

Draco Malfoy stared at the scene before him in horror. Here was _the_ Harry Potter, ‘savior’ of the wizarding world, a loser kid in ugly clothes and dirty hair. This was…most disconcerting. He felt shame at knowing that this kid was someone he was supposed to be friends with. Honestly, _what_ sort of wizard let stupid _muggles_ pick on him? It was…ridiculous! Muggles should be bowing in their presence, like house elves, not kicking them!  
  
He stood there silently as the children began to form a circle and continued laughing. The fat and ugly blond one who had kicked Potter was smiling in a way that reminded Draco of pictures of his Aunt Bellatrix from Mother’s side of the family.  
  
“Yeah, you tell him, Dudley!” a scrawny boy with a rat-like face shouted, leering wickedly at Potter. Apparently the fat and ugly one had a name as stupid as his face.  
  
Potter just closed off his facial expressions, so Draco didn’t know what he was thinking, and began to climb to his feet.  
  
Dudley, snickering to himself, pushed Potter onto the ground. The boy was all skin and bones for the most part, so he fell easily. Again, shame filled Draco at this display. A small part of him almost wanted to urge this Dudley fellow on. After all, life was survival of the fittest – that’s what his Father had taught him. If Potter couldn’t stand up for himself, he probably deserved this.   
  
“Aw, poor little Potty fell!” Dudley cackled. He looked at his friend, rat-faced-boy, and some of the other kids. “Don’t you guys think this is where Potty belongs? On the floor like a dog? He eats scraps from the table, you know.” Dudley focused his attention on Potter, whose only outward display of emotion was the twitch of muscle in his cheek. “Bark for us, Potty! Bark! Bark!”  
  
 _Like a dog_ …Something in Draco shifted as he heard the fat muggle’s words. When the bloody hell did a mere _muggle_ deserve to call a _wizard_ a dog?! If anything, muggles were the dogs!  
  
“Go away, Dudley,” Potter said in a voice that bordered between meekness and irritation. He stayed on the ground, realizing that if he got up again that Dudley would only push him down again.  
  
Guffawing, Dudley kicked Potter another time. “I said BARK, dog! BARK!”  
  
That part of him that shifted earlier? Well now it snapped. _No muggle_ spoke like that to one above his station!  
  
“Who says Potter’s the dog? You’re the one barking, you filthy mug—er, wanker!” Draco shouted, fists balled up at the side.  
  
The entire hallway went silent as everyone turned towards Draco with shocked and bewildered expressions.  
  
Potter was staring in shock as well, but relief and thankfulness flashed across his face.  
  
“What did you say?” Dudley inquired in a deadly voice with a raised brow that made him look only more stupid than normal; it completely contradicted the effects of his attempted intimidating response.  
  
Suddenly Draco wished that Crabbe and Goyle were here because he had never fought anyone before and his friends were just about as big as Dudley (and no, he didn’t wish for Blaise because Blaise was a sissy boy who cried if he so much as broke a bloody nail).  
  
“You heard me,” Draco sneered. When in doubt, fake it. “Or are you not only as ugly as a gorilla, but stupid as one, too?”  
  
Eyes flashing, Dudley let out a little roar and rushed for Draco. Fortunately, Draco’s kid-sized Quidditch set back home helped improve his agility from seeking snitches. He easily evaded the attack and instead made Dudley bang his legs on the heater adjacent to the wall. It made a loud clanging sound and suddenly a lady teacher with big brown bangs and hair marched down the hallway. Everyone in the hallway was laughing so loud that they barely heard her.  
  
“Why aren’t you in class? Children, to class you go!” she ordered in a frantic voice as she gestured with a pointed finger.  
  
Thank _Merlin_ this teacher had arrived! Draco couldn’t imagine what he would do if this filthy muggle beast had actually _fought_ him.  
  
Aware of the teacher’s presence, Dudley leaned in close and whispered, “I’m going to beat you until you’re black and blue, New Kid,” he threatened.   
  
Draco just snorted. _His_ dad could do magic. One touch on his perfectly styled hair and maybe his father would use that _Imperio_ curse to make Dudley think he really was a gorilla.  
  
The hallways were clearing but Draco hung back until it was just him and Potter.  
  
“You didn’t have to do that,” Potter told him. “You really don’t want to get on Dudley’s bad side. He beats kids up a lot.”  
  
“I noticed,” Draco responded wryly as he looked Potter over. Yes, so he was unkempt with broken glasses and dirty hair, but he _was_ one of them. Plus, Father’s mission for him was to befriend the boy and Draco had _no_ intention of disappointing his father. So, he smiled brightly and offered Potter his hand. “Allow me to formerly introduce myself. I’m Draco Ma—Black.” His smile intensified after he had to cover up his near mistake at using his real name.  
  
Potter looked at his extended hand in surprise, as if he was unused to this social situation. Finally, he smiled slightly and shook Draco’s hand. “Harry Potter,” he introduced himself. Then his smile brightened. “Thanks Draco, for the help.”  
  
“Anytime!” Draco said cheerfully. He was always happy to make muggles feel stupid, after all.   
  
They walked back to their classroom in silence and Draco stole a glance at Potter. Perhaps he would be alright. Besides, Draco now had _two_ mortal enemies – Kalika and Dudley. He would need Harry’s help in making those two rue the day they had ever crossed Draco Malfoy!  
  
***  
  
The night after his first day at muggle school had been utterly aggravating. Father and Mother had wanted to know every single detail of his experience and everything about Harry Potter. They hadn’t wanted to believe that Potter got picked or at school nor that he was dressed like a pauper – Mother had been particularly horrified by that. By the end of the conversation they had just reiterated that Draco had to befriend the boy and figure out everything about him.  
  
Being given orders by his parents was irksome but Draco sort of liked the idea that he was a secret spy. He actually used one of his school notebooks and a pen (honestly, why didn’t muggles use scrolls and quills? Barbarians, the lot of them!) to maintain notes on everyone and everything at the muggle school. It seemed to him that this was the spy thing to do. He only wished that he had an invisibility cloak so he could further spy with ease.  
  
***  
  
Draco stared at the clock on the classroom wall as its minute hand began to slowly inch towards the number eight. School began in two minutes and Potter had yet to arrive. Already the other students were taking their seats, talking and giggling amongst themselves. No one bothered to speak to Draco – ever since the confrontation with Dudley yesterday they treated Draco like a pariah. Draco assumed it was either because Dudley was so well-liked or because other kids were scared of him; considering that Dudley was ugly, fat, and stupid, Draco knew it had to be the latter reason.  
  
The bell rang and Potter still didn’t show up. Letting out a huff of displeasure, Draco stared out the window. How dare Potter not show up! How was Draco supposed to be a secret spy if his objective failed to appear?   
  
Then a thought crossed his mind…a rather dark idea that had never previously entered Draco’s thoughts…what if that Dudley character had _done_ something to Potter? After all, everyone knew that muggles were wild beasts. Father used to tell him tales of the great witch hunts of the 1500s before Mother scolded him for scaring Draco. Perhaps Dudley and his cowardly friends had drowned or hanged Potter?  
  
Something twisted in Draco’s gut. He had never worried about someone before – mostly because he had never _needed_ to worry. Father always kept their family safe and the only friends he cared about were Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, and Pansy, and they were never in trouble either. This new feeling of apprehension trickling though his veins was most certainly not a feeling Draco enjoyed.  
  
“Mr. Melon?” Draco called out as he raised his hand.  
  
Busy writing on the board, the teacher barely spared Draco a glance. “Yes?”  
  
“I’m feeling sick. Can I go see the Healer?” Draco asked. The other children turned to look at him; he distinctly saw his arch-nemesis Kalika laugh and roll her eyes at her friend.   
  
“H-healer?” Mr. Melon sputtered. His thin lips quirked into a slight smile. “Do you mean the nurse’s office?”  
  
Scowling, Draco inwardly scolded himself for his error in speech. Of _course_ the muggles would have to call a healer by a different name. Nurse? What in Merlin’s Beard did that have anything to do with being sick? Wasn’t ‘nurse’ something mothers do to babies. Eww! He certainly hoped that this nurse wouldn’t make him drink from a bottle or something…  
  
But instead of saying all that, Draco just nodded. Mr. Melon excused him and Draco wondered for the rest of the day where Potter was.  
  
***  
  
Potter showed up to school the next day. As usual, he looked like a street begger, with his baggy grey shirt and too-wide trousers that were held tight with a frayed belt. But was most worrisome was that, when Potter’s book bag caught on the desk chair and his shirt was lifted up, Draco saw an ugly purple mark on his right side. An involuntary gasp let out and Harry shot him a worried look before yanking his shirt down.   
  
Class begun and they didn’t have a chance to speak until their morning break.  
  
“Hey Potter,” Draco started in an extra casual voice; his mind still processing Potter’s bruise and wondering what happened to Potter. “Didn’t see you in school yesterday.”  
  
Potter shrugged, his hair falling back and so clearly revealing the lightning-shaped scar that Draco had heard stories of as a child. They were at the end of the line in the hallway, waiting as the other students used the restroom.  
  
“I, erm, was sick,” Potter offered as an explanation – but Draco was an excellent liar and knew a lie when he heard one.  
  
“Did Dudley find you?” Draco inquired as he subtly gestured towards Potter’s right side.   
  
Flushing red, Potter avoided his eyes and just shrugged.  
  
Indignation rising, Draco pursed his lips. “You shouldn’t let that mug—wanker push you around. You should fight back!” he urged in a lowered tone, not wanting the other kids to notice him.  
  
“I can’t fight back. I’d get in trouble,” Potter sighed.  
  
Eyes screwing up as Draco took in that flabbergasting information, he let out a snort of derision. “How? That wanker is huge and clearly is starting it.”  
  
“Yeah, but my aunt and uncle would be angry. They were already upset by what happened the other day.” Potter leaned against the wall with a dejected expression.  
  
“Why? All you did was bloody get pummeled?” Draco asked hotly.  
  
“Yeah,” Potter answered with a bitter smile. “But Dudley got hurt and embarrassed.”  
  
“B-but, _you_ didn’t do that!”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” Potter shrugged.  
  
Draco struggled to understand why any stupid muggle would be angry at that, when something struck him. “Wait, why do your aunt and uncle care about a stupid fat oaf at school?”  
  
His description of Dudley had Potter grinning, before his expression sobered. “Because he’s my cousin.”  
  
Jaw-dropping, Draco just stared at Potter. “Are you…bloody kidding me? You’re _related_ to that mug—er, wanker?”  
  
“Yeah.” Potter shrugged again, although this time he gave Draco a strange look at the use of the word ‘mug’. “My parents died in a car crash and my aunt and uncle were nice enough to let me live with them.” Potter’s tone was mostly emotionless, but Draco thought he heard a trace of dark amusement at the words ‘nice enough’.  
  
“Okay students, back to class,” Mr. Melon called, effectively interrupting their conversation. Baldy, as Draco began to internally think of Mr. Melon due to his distasteful lack of hair, was a stickler for rules and didn’t allow talking while they walked through the hallways.  
  
Merlin, Draco hated muggle school. He bet at Hogwarts they could talk in the hallways all they pleased!  
  
***  
  
At dinner that night, Draco prepared himself for a barrage of questions from his parents. As per the norm, they each sat at one end of the table while Draco sat in the middle. The set-up made him feel like a quaffle at times, as he looked back and forth during their conversation.  
  
“So darling, how was school today?” Narcissa inquired smoothly as she poised her knife to cut into the grilled chicken.  
  
“Um, it was okay.” Draco didn’t quite know what his parents would think of a muggle beating Potter up again. For some reason he was afraid that they would think that Potter was weak and decide he wasn’t worth befriending, effectively cutting Draco off of his spy work. So instead, he decided to talk about the class work. “Today we learned about electricity.” Draco flashed them a big smile before biting into his chicken.  
  
Narcissa and Lucius shared twin looks of horror. “E-lec-tric-it-y?” Lucius sounded out slowly. “You mean, the muggle’s weak equivalent of magic?” He began chuckling and Narcissa joined in.   
  
“Well, it’s not like magic. Sometimes its almost better. Mr. Melon let us do an experiment where we hooked up wires and made a light bulb glow,” Draco explained thoughtlessly, his mind more so focused on how to describe Potter’s plight.  
  
“ _Better_?” Narcissa shouted, aghast.  
  
“Draco!” Lucius snapped sternly.  
  
Surprised by their reaction, Draco mentally went over his previous statement. “Uh…Well, not _better_ , of course. That’s rubbish,” he snorted. “I just meant they don’t need wands to turn on lights and they have things called tee-vees that show moving pictures, sort of like The Daily Prophet, except it’s a lot of pictures and voices.”  
  
Draco wasn’t positive, but he thought that perhaps his mother’s face had paled just a bit.   
  
“They have you watching TVs?” Lucius asked, his brow raised to impossible heights.  
  
“This is all your fault, Lucius. _You’re_ the one who wanted him to go to muggle school! Now they’re brainwashing him into thinking that muggle technology is better than magic!” Narcissa snapped, her fork clattering onto the fine china.  
  
“Bloody hell woman, calm down,” Lucius asked with a dramatic eye roll. “He knows better. Draco’s a smart lad.”  
  
Draco didn’t want his mom to make him stop attending school and doing spy work! Plus, he really liked that his dad called him smart. “Don’t worry mother, I know better,” he added with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Besides,” he sniffed. “Today I learned about just what animals muggles are!”  
  
“What do you mean, Draco? Is it something about Potter?” Lucius inquired as he leaned forward eagerly.  
  
Draco pressed his lips together briefly before speaking. “Yeah, they’re animals! Potter wasn’t at school yesterday—”  
  
“—Yes, you mentioned that yesterday. Was the boy sick?” Narcissa queried.  
  
“No,” Draco shook his head. “Remember that boy Dudley I told you about?”  
  
“Yes, that oafish one who tried to beat up Potter?” Narcissa’s eyes flashed. His mother was incredibly protective and did a lot of charity work with her Circle Society that helped children.  
  
“Yeah. Well, he’s Potter’s cousin and lives with him. Potter had a _huge_ bruise on his side today,” Draco informed them.   
  
For the second time that night, Narcissa and Lucius shared a look; it was not quite like their look of horror earlier, but was darker.   
  
“A bruise?” Lucius repeated in a musing tone.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And did Harry say that Dudley delivered the bruise?” Narcissa asked curiously. Her tone was aloof, but almost like she was trying too hard.  
  
“Um.” Draco squinted as he tried to remember his conversation with Potter. He had written it down immediately into his spy notebook and quickly leapt for his backpack. Walking back, he skimmed through the pages. “No,” he finally answered. “Just his aunt and uncle were angry about Dudley getting embarrassed by me and were mad at Potter.”  
  
Narcissa sighed. “Thank you Draco. You did very well today.”  
  
“Thank you, Mother,” Draco said with a shy smile. His mother was loving but rarely delivered praise – although it was more common coming from her than his father.  
  
***  
  
“A bruise, Lucius? You don’t think those blasted muggles are beating the poor boy, do you?” Narcissa asked heatedly as she slipped into her black nightgown.  
  
“Perhaps, dear. I am unsure what the parenting skills are of muggles,” Lucius replied in a distracted tone as he finished off letter to his private investigator. Previously the muggle investigator had determined the living arrangements of Potter, but now Lucius wanted to know more about their lifestyle. Unfortunately, since he refused to involve anyone else from the Wizarding world into this, he had to deliver the letter through the muggle post.  
  
“Well that is ridiculous!” Narcissa hissed as she tidied up her cosmetics with jerky fingers; a result of the adrenaline coursing through her veins from the anger that someone was possibly abusing a child.  
  
“Yes, well, there’s not much we can do about it, is there? We know that Dumbledore has to have his eye on that family somehow. I certainly can’t go over and administer a Cruciatus, now can I?” Lucius asked in a dry tone.  
  
Dark humor formed Narcissa’s lips into a thin smile. “Now that would be a good start.”  
  
“Narcissa,” Lucius sighed in exasperation. “You cannot get so worked up about this. Who knows – perhaps this will work out in our favor.”  
  
She shot her husband a bewildered look. “ _How_?” Narcissa questioned in an appalled tone.  
  
Lucius smirked. “If he’s grown to hate muggles due to abuse, that will make turning him so much easier.” Seeing her hesitant expression, he added, “And then, my dear, those relatives will receive their comeuppance.”  
  
“Yes,” Narcissa sighed as she slid into bed and pulled the covers up to her chest. “Perhaps.”  
  
Replacing his robes with black silk pajama bottoms, Lucius smiled and climbed into bed with her. He pulled Narcissa against his bare chest, said an incantation to snuff out the candles (hmmph! As if electricity was better!), and kissed her forehead. “You have a good heart, my dear, with your love of charity cases. A better heart than I.”  
  
Narcissa snorted, but nonetheless snuggled up to her husband. “My love of charity cases? Well, that’s why I married _you_ darling.” She giggled, a soft girlish sound that reminded him of their first date in Hogwarts.  
  
“I’ll get you for that,” Lucius murmured as he began to tickle her ribs and the back of her neck.   
  
***  
  
Much later that night, after they were both spent and beginning to fall asleep, Narcissa whispered to Lucius. “Darling? Let’s have Draco invite the Potter boy over. I want to see with my own eyes how he’s doing.”  
  
Lucius groaned. “That may draw unwanted attention, dear,” he murmured sleepily.  
  
Smiling to herself, Narcissa trailed her hand across Lucius’ chest, down the flat planes of his abdomen, and beyond. “Please darling. It would mean a lot to me.”  
  
Her hand twitched and Lucius’ answer got lost in a low groan that Narcissa decided meant ‘yes’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Harry meets the entire family! ;)
> 
> References:  
> *http://www.hp-lexicon.org/muggle/dudley.html#profile  
> *http://www.hp-lexicon.org/muggle/muggle_people.html#Polkiss_Piers


End file.
